


Comfort

by Sweetie_T



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ANR, Awkward Castiel, Awkwardness, Badass OFC, Cussing, F/M, Kidnapped, Lactation fetish, Non-sexual adult nursing, OFC has a potty mouth, adult nursing, comfort kink, hunting monsters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-01-18 02:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12379458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetie_T/pseuds/Sweetie_T
Summary: Sam and Dean rescue Malia after she's been held against her will and experimented on. She's totally fine except for one teensy little problem... one that Sam is too willing to help out with.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read tags! If you're not picking up what I'm putting down please, please move along!

"Shit, guys, it fucking hurts!" Malia wrapped her arms around her chest, the pain increasing with every bump and jostle as Dean drove as fast as he could back to the bunker.

"Are you breathing ok?" Sam asked, terrified for his best friend.

She nodded. "I'm breathing fine, I'm just... my boobs fucking hurt!"

Neither of the guys knew what to say to that. They were on their way back to the bunker after pulling off a daring rescue. She had been taken almost a month before by an evil cocktail of bad guys. A witch, a werewolf and a vampire. Sounded like the start of a bad joke.

She had just left the bunker for a quick walk. She wanted to go outside for some air, which she knew was risky but she couldn't stand being cooped up for one more second. And it had earned her three weeks in a medical torture chamber being cut and bitten and injected with Chuck-knows-what.

She wasn't scared or sad or traumatized. She was pissed. Beyond pissed. She hadn't done anything to deserve this. She just happened to be born immune to pretty much everything. She had been bitten by werewolves, hexed by witches and fed vampire blood with no lasting effects. She had never been possessed by a demon despite numerous attempts. Djinn mind crap didn't work on her and shifters couldn't take her form. She healed as fast as any supernatural creature, and she'd never even had the flu. She didn't have to be the fastest or the strongest or the most agile. She was fucking invincible.

Naturally, she had chosen to utilize her gifts by taking up hunting. When Sam and Dean had first stumbled across her in the middle of one of her cases they thought she was in way over her head. She was a normal girl, late twenties, not overly agile or muscular. And she worked alone.

They stormed in all ready to save her from a vamp nest and they cut off a few heads as they watched her get bitten, scratched, stabbed and splattered head to toe in vamp blood. Dean was seconds away from evicting her head from her torso when she asked him to give her a minute. Her wounds healed in moments and she spit out the vampire blood, her body rejecting it altogether.

The guys watched her for about a day to make sure she wouldn't vamp out, and when she stayed herself they decided they could use a third. Especially an invincible third.

So she started to hang with them. Dean became like a big brother to her and Sam was her best friend ever. It was awesome, hunting together, helping make a difference. Until Cas came by one day and informed them she had a serious price on her head. And then things got suffocatingly claustrophobic.

"It's safe in the bunker." "Stay in the bunker, Malia." "You really think you can heal having your damn head cut off?" "They're looking for you for a reason." "I would highly recommend remaining safe inside the bunker."

It was all she had heard from any of the guys for months. Her research skills left a lot to be desired, she sucked at housework and was a mediocre cook at best, so she was basically useless. Malia had finally decided that she would rather be hunted down and killed than spend one more minute in the damned bunker.

If only it had been that easy.

A fresh wave of pain burst through her boobs and she screamed, making Dean swerve Baby a little. Sam glanced at her, his gaze heavy with concern.

"How... far..." She asked between gasps of agony. She could barely force the words out.

"About twenty minutes, Lia. Do you think you can hang on?" Sam's voice was tight with worry.

She whimpered. "I don't think so, Sam. I think my boobs just split open." She trembled with shock as she felt her shirt soak clean through with a hot, sticky liquid. She couldn't bring herself to look down, knowing the bright red blood would be awful and terrifying. What the hell had they done to her?

"Uh... You're not bleeding, Li..." Sam's voice was quiet.

Malia looked down and was frozen with confusion when she didn't see any red. She saw a clearish fluid trickling from her breasts and soaking her shirt. The flow eased the pain at the same rate it was increasing, so the awful pinching and burning was more or less steady. She blinked several times, not able to comprehend what she was seeing.

"What the hell..." She muttered.

\---

Dean opened up the bunker and Malia pushed past him and rushed inside. She immediately peeled off her soaked shirt and whipped off her bra.

"Whoa, Mal! My eyes!"

Sam came inside immediately after Dean. He noticed her clothes on the ground but no sign of the woman herself.

Dean proceeded unloading the Impala as Sam went to check on Malia.

He knocked on the door to her room. "Lia... how's it going?"

He could hear her groan in pain.

"Do you need anything?" He was worried and itching to do something. Anything.

When he didn't hear her he tried the knob. She had been rushing so fast she forgot to lock her door. He didn't see her in the room so he went to her bathroom door and knocked. He heard soft little whimpers. He knocked again.

"Malia...?" The sound of her whimpering was his only answer.

Sam tried the bathroom door and it was unlocked too. He opened it to see a topless Malia pulling frantically at her own nipples, streams of fluid spraying from each one and mostly landing in the sink.

"Oh, Malia... what did they do to you?" He asked, full of sympathy.

His voice was soft, but she still jumped, grabbing a hand towel and covering her chest. "Sam!"

He stepped inside and touched the little puddle in the sink, bringing his wet fingers under his nose and sniffing. His brow creased and he reached out his tongue and licked the wet from his fingertips. "Its milk..."

"What?" She was staring at him incredulously.

He gestured vaguely at her chest. "You're, uh, you're lactating. It's milk."

"What!? What the fuck did they do to me, Sam!?"

"It's ok, Lia. Lactation is normal. If this is all they did you're going to be fine. They probably injected you with hormones or something."

"This is NOT normal and I am NOT fine, Sam! My tits are swollen and there's milk coming out of me! What the hell am I supposed to do?" She buried her face in her hands and growled her frustration, holding the towel in place with her elbows.

He didn't know what to say so he put his arms around her exceedingly gently. She buried her face in his shoulder.

"It still hurts, Sam..." She whispered against him.

"Can I try?" Sam asked quietly. She looked at him, puzzled. "Please, just let me help you..."

She reluctantly nodded and he turned her around until they were both facing the mirror and he was standing behind her, pulling the towel away slowly, wincing at how hard and hot and red her breasts were. How prominently the veins stood out against her creamy flesh.

"They look really painful." He said. She nodded. "I'll be very gentle."

He reached around to the front of her and very carefully squeezed and tugged her nipples. The milk shot from her with such force into the sink it sprayed back on her in a mist. Instead of a whimper she moaned in relief. Finally, finally they were emptying faster than they filled.

He repeated the motion several more times and she soon sagged against him in relief. Now that the urgency was gone and she was no longer at risk of literally bursting he found he had the time and the brain space to consider the situation. His gorgeous best friend, topless, his hands cupped under her heavy breasts, his fingers working her swollen, wet nipples, her head resting on his shoulder and her neck boneless, moaning softly under his every touch.

He found he had to shift his hips so she wouldn't feel his surprisingly potent arousal. He continued his ministrations for several minutes, Malia becoming more and more relaxed as he became more and more tense.

She finally cleared her throat. "Uhm... Sam?"

He opened his eyes, which he had apparently closed at some point, and noticed that while he was still working her nipples the milk had stopped coming out. It still took him a moment to remove his hands from her body.

"Feel better?" Her breasts were warm and soft again, not hot and tight. She smiled.

"I feel so much better, Sam. Thank you." She turned and hugged him close. "Why didn't it work when I did it?"

He hugged her back, relieved that she was no longer in pain. "I don't know, Li. We'll get Cas to check you out in the morning. Right now you need rest."

She nodded.

"You going to be ok alone tonight?"

"I'll be fine. Thank you for taking care of me, Sam."

He hugged her tighter. "Always."

\---

The next morning Dean and Sam were up, dressed and had finished breakfast well before Malia even opened her eyes.

"She's been through hell, let the girl sleep." Was Dean's take on it.

Sam couldn't stop thinking about how he "helped" her last night. The weight of her head on his shoulder, the heaviness of her breasts in his hands, the texture of her nipples and the wet warmth and stickiness of her milk. The sounds of her relieved moans in his ear.

If Dean noticed Sam's preoccupation he kept it to himself. About mid-morning Castiel appeared with a soft rustling sound.

"Hey, Cas." Dean greeted him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier. I was detained. How is Malia?" The angel asked in his usual rough voice.

As if the utterance of her name had summoned her Malia came in wearing pajama pants and a tank top. She was rubbing her eyes and her hair was a mess. Her breasts were swollen and tight again, straining against the thin cotton of her top. All three men's gazes were drawn to her chest.

Sam winced in sympathy for the pain she must be in.

Dean cleared his throat and forced himself to look away.

Castiel moved to stand near her.

"Hey, Cas." She said, her voice grumpy.

"Malia. How are you?"

"Welp, Cas, I'm just shitty. How are you?" She grabbed a beer and popped the top, taking a swig.

"Mal... it's like 10:30..." Dean said.

She pinned him with a look that could make wallpaper peel. He put up his hands up in supplication.

"I am well. May I lay hands on you, Malia?" Cas asked her.

"Whatever." Malia muttered as she dropped into a chair at the table. The pain was back, even more intense than last night and it was making her uncharacteristically bitchy.

Castiel put his hand on her shoulder and concentrated. She ignored him and kept sipping her beer. After a few minutes he removed his hand.

"I have good news and also some bad news. Your body is reeling from your rough treatment, but it is healing efficiently. The werewolf and vampire toxins are almost entirely gone. There are slight traces of various hexes the witch used, but they are fading. It looks as though nothing they tried to do to harm you was successful." He delivered in his usual deadpan cadence.

Malia groaned at a fresh wave of pain. "Ok, genius. Then why am I suddenly a milk maid?"

"That's the bad news. That particular hex was, unfortunately, successful. It worked because your body fails to see lactation as a curse or an injury. It's a normal biological process."

Malia scoffed. "Okay fine. Thanks a lot, body. But why can't I successfully express the milk myself, but another person can?"

At this, Dean's wide eyes snapped to Sam and Sam's gaze dropped to the surface of the table. His face and ears burned red hot with embarrassment.

"May I touch you again?" Castiel asked gently. Malia nodded but gasped in surprise when Cas cupped her tender breasts. His brow creased in concentration.

Sam and Dean watched the whole thing with rapt fascination, glancing back and forth between Castiel's groping hands and Malia's bitch face.

Cas tightened his grip very slightly and Malia growled at him.

"It's like watching a train wreck, Sammy, can't look away." Dean said under his breath. Sam nodded.

Finally Cas removed his hands from her body. His brow was still creased in concern. "That is... interesting."

"What is?" Malia groaned again, the pain peaking sharply and then holding in intensity, two wet spots suddenly spreading out across her shirt radiating from her nipples. Dean and Sam stared at her shirt as Cas answered.

"Another component of the hex, you will be unable to ease the pressure yourself or mechanically. You need another's assistance each time."

"Fuck that. I'll just let it dry up. It'll hurt like hell for a while but it will eventually stop." Malia got a napkin and began dabbing futilely at her wet shirt.

"I'm afraid not. That's part of the hex too. It appears your condition is permanent."

"What the hell, Cas!? And I can't even take care of it my fucking self? I have to go to someone else every goddamned time?" She rose to her feet, in pain and pissed. Cas stood there patiently as she screamed at him.

"I understand you're frustrated."

"Really? You understand that, huh?" She crossed her arms over her chest and shrieked when it hurt. She put her arms down again, fists at her sides and stomped her foot furiously. "I don't even get any time to prepare? To go on the internet and find some random person willing to nurse from me for hours every day? This is so fucking unfair!"

She stomped off to her room and slammed the door.

"I believe she's upset." Cas told the guys solemnly.

\---

Sam knocked on her door. "Lia?"

"Go away, Sam." Her voice was muffled. He figured she had a pillow over her head.

"Please let me in... I can help you. If not me, Dean. Or Cas. Please let us help you. You're going to get sick."

He heard a "flump" and a shrill, unmuffled "GO THE FUCK AWAY!" from Malia, who had apparently thrown her pillow at the door.

He tried the knob. It was unlocked again. "You know this door locks, right?" He smirked gently at her, his expression falling when he noticed her tears. He had never seen her cry. "Hey... Lia, hey..." He wished he could think of something to tell her to make everything better, but all he could do was cuddle up behind her on the bed.

He gave her a tissue from her nightstand and hugged her very gently from behind, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"We'll figure this out, ok? We'll fix this."

"How, Sam? Look in the yellow pages for someone who wants to quit their job and spend all their time nursing? This fucking sucks!... No pun intended."

He chuckled a bit. "We'll call that plan B. Until then, though, let us help you."

"I don't think so, Sam. It was awkward enough last night. And God, Dean..." She shuddered. "That's like asking my brother to help with this."

"Cas, then."

"He can't heal this, it's not technically a wound."

"He can still help you... express. And... honestly, I didn't really mind helping you last night. I was glad I could make you feel better. Just pick one of us and we'll help. We'll do whatever you need."

He tightened his arm around her waist and noticed her shirt was soaked clean through. She had put a folded up towel on her bed, trying to protect the sheets from the milk. He reached down to grip the hem of her shirt and began peeling it up slowly.

"What are you doing, Sam?"

"Shh, just let me help you. Please." He pulled her tank up enough to expose her nipple, which was red, irritated and chapped from his clumsy first attempts at hand expression. He turned her body toward him slightly and reached down, cupping her hot, painfully tight breast, very very gently. He glanced at her eyes, which looked back at him with pain and desperation, and slowly bent his head.

When she made no move to stop him he took as much of her nipple and areola into his mouth as he could, made sure his teeth weren't cutting into her skin, and sucked deeply. His mouth was instantly flooded with warm, sweet milk and his eyes drifted closed when he swallowed and felt it trickle down his throat.

Malia felt her milk let down and with every draw of Sam's gentle mouth she felt the pressure easing. She moaned in relief and placed one hand in his hair. Soothing back his thick brown locks. He opened his eyes again and looked up, a bit surprised to find her staring back at him. They gazed at each other, transfixed.

The idea of this possibility had been arousing for Sam. And hand expression had definitely excited him. But now that he was actually drinking from her, staring deeply into her eyes, her hand caressing his hair, he found himself strangely calm. Rather than arousing or exciting the experience was peaceful, gentle and it comforted him to his very core.

He sighed mightily, releasing the acres of tension he was so used to carrying. His racing mind stilled, his clenched shoulders relaxed, a terrible tightness in his stomach unknotted. He closed his eyes again and nursed until her milk ran dry. He released her empty breast and she sat up against the headboard, dragging a pillow into her lap and helping him lay on his back on top of it, turned toward her slightly.

She peeled her shirt up off of her other breast, red, overfull and painful, and tickled his bottom lip with her wet nipple. He opened wide and latched on once again, nursing gently, eyes closed and perfectly relaxed, until that one ran dry too.

By the time he was comfortably full and she was blissfully empty they were both drowsy and happy and drifting off to sleep, curled in each other's arms.

\---

Sam and Malia fell into a tentative routine and for several weeks it worked well. Sam visited her in her room to nurse twice a day and they slept beside each other so he could nurse at night. To both Castiel and Dean's credit, neither one of them made any comments about the new arrangement.

In fact, Malia was just beginning to see how this curse could potentially someday fall into the "doesn't completely fucking blow" category when they got a job. A shifter was playing hopscotch with people's bodies in a little town in Michigan. Before she knew it she and the brothers were crammed into the Impala, on their way to their next job.

They left late morning, after breakfast and Sam's first feeding. Everything was going well until sometime after lunch when they were still a couple of hours away from their destination. Malia started to feel a pinching and burning. She squirmed in the back seat, trying to get comfortable.

"You ok, Mal?" Dean glanced at her in the rearview.

Sam looked back and instantly knew what was wrong. "Lia, do we need to stop somewhere?"

The only answer either of them got was a stifled groan of pain.

"Pull over somewhere private, Dean, please." Sam asked his brother. Dean's expression tightened with discomfort but he turned onto an access road and parked them in a wooded area.

Sam hopped out of the front of the car and climbed into the back, laying across the seat with his head in Malia's lap. She peeled up her t-shirt and unclipped one side of the nursing bra she had bought. Sam latched on with instinctive ease after having weeks of practice. Malia sighed in relief.

Dean concentrated on staring out the window and listening to his tunes, the volume low but loud enough to drown out the soft sounds of suckling from the back seat. But it wasn't loud enough to drown out the quiet moans and little sighs. He clenched his teeth and tried to think of sports, hunting, the Latin alphabet... anything to distract himself and keep himself from looking in the... Oops. Too late. He was looking in the rear view mirror.

Dean could see everything. He wasn't entirely sure what he had expected, but it wasn't this. Sam and Mal, eyes locked together, her hands stroking his hair gently. They both looked totally at peace, even if just for this moment. Their connection was so powerful Dean barely noticed Mal's boob hanging out. He had been worried about how his body would react if he ever saw this, but instead of unwelcome arousal he felt... a gentle longing.

Before long they were done. Mal fastened her clothes and kissed Sam on the forehead. She stroked his cheek gently and whispered her thanks to him. He hopped back in the front seat. 

"All good. Let's go."

\---


	2. Woo-hoo, Chapter Two!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam gets busy, Dean helps out.

The shifter was surprisingly easy to deal with. It was tired and defeated before they even got there. It basically walked up and asked to be ganked. They decided to go out to a bar to celebrate a job going well with no one being injured, for once. They also hadn't gone out to have any fun in quite a while.

First Malia was being hunted and she was confined to the bunker and then after her kidnapping as far as anyone could tell the bounty on her head had been rescinded but none of them had really felt like partying, so it had been several months since the three of them had just cut loose.

Mal loved to dance so she quickly found her place on the dance floor, between two big cowboy-looking guys. The brothers sat and watched her, sipping their beers.

"You think she's okay?" Sam broke the silence.

Dean watched her grind against both cowboys in turn. He shrugged. "Looks fine to me."

Sam rolled his eyes. "That's not what I mean. She was kidnapped. Tortured. She hasn't even had a single nightmare. She hasn't really cried about it..."

"That's not her, man. You know that. She'd rather fight and drink and screw than go all chick-flick. Sometimes I think she's more of a dude than we are."

Sam chuckled and lifted his brows. "Yeah... No. Trust me. She's all woman."

Dean pinned his brother with a look. "How is that going anyway, man?"

Sam turned red and suddenly got very interested in his beer. "Uh..."

"You know... what I mean is... Is it a sex thing?"

"No! No... I'm just helping her. That's all. And it's nice, you know, for me too. But..." He looked at Dean again. "You know how sex is like... it's building toward something, right? Like you both get wound tighter and tighter and it's like you're striving toward a kind of... goal. Like, working toward an end..."

Dean nodded, smirking. "Yes, I am familiar with sex."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Okay, well... when I'm with Lia and we're... doing what we've been doing... it's like... the opposite. It's letting go. Of everything. Of striving and climbing and building and stress and worry. It's slowly releasing... all of it. Until I'm perfectly calm and totally safe. I don't have to worry about anything and nothing can hurt me."

Dean looked down at his beer. "Sounds nice..." He muttered before quickly clearing his throat.

Malia finished her dance and ditched the cowboys, coming back to sit with the guys again. Her face was flushed and she couldn't stop smiling. Sam grinned at her, pleased she was happy and having fun. She grinned back at him.

"So... while I was dancing a girl came up to me." She began.

"Really..." Dean said, leaning forward, his interest piqued.

Malia rolled her eyes at Dean. "Not like that, horn dog. Not this time at least." She smirked and winked and Dean swallowed. "She wanted to know if you were taken." She smiled at Sam. "I told her to go for it."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Where?"

"Red head in black, at the bar." She sipped her beer as Sam scoped out the chick at the bar.

Her dress was just this side of legal and her eyes were pinned on him. "Damn..." He breathed.

"Go get her, tiger. Make me proud." Dean said, clapping him on the shoulder. Malia chuckled and Sam swallowed heavily before going over to meet the red head. They talked for only a few minutes before leaving together.

"Thank god. He was getting really uptight." Malia said, finishing her beer.

"So... What are you going to do about... your problem? Cowboys gonna help you out?" Dean asked, finishing his own beer.

Mal's eyes went wide and she smacked her forehead on the table. "Fuck..." She grumbled. "I forgot all about my stupid fucking problem." She groaned and rubbed her face with her hands. "I guess I can just live with it until Sam comes back."

Dean cleared his throat. "Um... I mean... Uh, if you wanted..." He cleared his throat again. She watched him fumble his words, smirking just a bit at how nervous he was. Finally she took pity on him.

"Dean, would you please help me with my annoying-as-hell, inconvenient, awkward-as-fuck problem tonight? I would really appreciate it. Otherwise I'll be in so much pain I won't sleep and I'll be all bitchy tomorrow."

"You mean more than usual?" He smirked and she smacked his arm.

"You know what? Nevermind. I'll ask the cowboys." She moved to stand and he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

"Mal, knock it off. I'll do it."

"Okay. Let's go." She grabbed her coat.

"Now?" He looked confused.

"Yup. It's almost midnight, that's my usual milking time."

 

They got back to the motel and took off their shoes and jackets. Malia drank a bottle of water and grabbed two more, knowing nursing made her incredibly thirsty.

"Thanks for doing this, Dean. I know it's a little awkward." She turned from the mini fridge and saw Dean sitting, bolt upright on the bed. She snickered gently. "Calm down before you sprain something."

He took a deep breath and tried to relax.

"We don't have to do this..." She began.

"We're doing this." He said decisively.

She nodded. "Okay, then. Ground rules. This is not sex. It is not foreplay. If your body reacts that's fine, you can't help it, but you can help where your hands go. And they are not allowed anywhere a swimsuit would cover. Got it?"

He nodded obediently and she smiled.

"Good. I think it would be easiest if you laid on my lap. Is that okay with you?"

He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah."

She set up her waters on the side table, sat up against the headboard and grabbed a pillow, placing it on her lap. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess." He rubbed his damp palms on his jeans and laid on Malia's lap. She was totally collected until that moment. Looking down at him she blushed fiercely.

"Maybe this was a bad idea..."

"Don't wuss out on me, Mal. Let's do this." Dean said gruffly, causing Malia to laugh.

"You sound like you're about to gank a Wendigo."

Her laughter was cut off with a groan of pain in her chest. "Okay, Mal, seriously. Let me help you." Dean said.

She nodded and pulled up her AC/DC t-shirt, unhooking one side of her nursing bra and peeling it down gently, exposing her engorged breast. Dean took a deep breath and latched on. Badly. He began sucking with gusto.

"Ow! Ow! Shit, Dean!" She smacked his arm and he pulled off with a pop.

"What?!" He was kind of freaked out.

"You're not trying to suck the chocolate off a peanut M&M, dude!"

"Hey, I've never had a complaint from a woman."

"I'm sure you haven't. But like I said, this isn't foreplay. The goal is not maximum nipple stimulation." She took a breath to calm herself down. "Open your mouth wide, like you're eating a bacon cheeseburger, but don't you dare fucking bite me."

He did as she said and she pushed her entire areola into his wide open mouth. "Now, GENTLE suction. You'll know you're doing it right when milk comes out."

He applied suction very, very carefully. She sighed when her milk let down, the pain of engorgement disappearing in moments. Dean closed his eyes and swallowed the sweet, warm milk, moaning very softly, waves of comfort washing over him. He lost track of time, focusing on the warm liquid filling his belly, but before long he had emptied the first side. Malia shifted a bit and gave him the other side. He latched on and reached up with one large hand, wrapped it around her breast, squeezing rhythmically, making the milk come faster. He was technically breaking her ground rules, but when his green eyes opened and vaguely focused on hers she didn't see any mischievous intent. She saw adoration, innocence and trust. So she let him knead her, and she ran her fingers through his hair.

His eyes closed again and just as she felt her breast run dry he released her nipple, a soft snore and a trickle of her milk escaping his lips. He had fallen fast asleep. She smiled and got comfortable, soon falling asleep too, both of them snuggled close together on the bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio figure out tandem nursing. And... Cas finds a cure. Will Mal take it?

Dean tried not to watch Sam and Mal as they cuddled on the sofa. They were watching a documentary about birds or something. Sam was half asleep and nursing.

They had become more open with the nursing, doing it in various rooms in the bunker instead of just her bedroom. They had asked if Dean was okay with it. He had said yes. They wanted to make sure it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

Honestly, it didn’t make him uncomfortable... It made him jealous.

He loved his brother and he loved Mal like a sister and he was happy they could comfort one another so deeply. But ever since the one time he had ‘helped’ her, he had been hungry to do it again.

So he sat, miserable, in an armchair, pretending not to stare... wishing he had the guts to ask her if he could join them.

 

Weeks and weeks passed. They went on a couple hunts. They went to bars after successfully ganking the monsters and Dean even picked up a random woman once and brought her back to the motel room to blow off some steam.

But he could feel himself becoming more and more tense. Cranky, even. He tried hard to keep his attitude in check, but he could tell he was fighting a losing battle.

And now he was in a creepy-ass house, silver blade in hand, hunting a shifter. And somehow he had been separated from Mal and Sam.

Turning a corner, he spotted his brother. Or something that looked like his brother. Sam held up his hand in a gesture of peace and cut his palm with a blade. “Relax, it’s me.”

Dean let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Where’s Mal?”

“I don’t know. I was looking for her when I ran into you.” Sam said.

“Let’s keep looking. You first.” Dean nodded in the direction Sam had been heading, following him closely for a step or two before plunging his silver blade square in Sam’s back.

The creature wearing Sam screamed as its skin melted off. Dean nodded at the ‘silver’ blade the shifter had tested itself with. “That ain’t my brother’s knife. And Sam would have checked me too, you son of a bitch.”

The mostly-melted creature finally dropped to the ground and standing behind it was Mal, watching the whole thing, looking abjectly disgusted. “I may never eat again.”

Dean went to step closer to her and she held up her own silver blade. He grabbed it in his fist and made a small cut, showing her his red blood. Satisfied, she smiled at him. “Good job ganking the bastard. Let’s go find Sam.”

 

They found Sam in the basement, tied up and shoved behind the water heater but otherwise unharmed. Dean untied him and he immediately ran past Dean and into Malia’s arms.

“A thank-you would be nice.” Dean muttered under his breath.

“You ok, Li?” Sam asked her, checking her over for injuries even as she did the same to him. “Ow, what the hell!?”

Malia shrugged and put her knife away, Sam holding his slightly-bleeding hand protectively to his chest. “Had to be sure.”

“Great. I’m me, you’re you, Dean...” Malia nodded. “Dean’s Dean...”

“...And the shifter’s dead. Dean ganked it.” She said.

“Great. Job’s done. Let’s get the hell out of the Addams Family mansion, shall we kids?” Dean grumbled at them, storming past so briskly he didn’t notice the knowing look Malia and Sam shared.

 

Back at their room, they all got cleaned up and Sam went to get take-out. Dean sat on his bed and absently flipped through the crappy channels on the crappy cheap motel TV. 

Mal came out from her shower, hair still damp, in pajama bottoms and a Metallica T-shirt. She flumped down on the bed beside Dean.

“Mal... what are you doing?” He sighed wearily.

“Scoot over, bed-hog.” She poked him in the side until he scooted enough for her to sit comfortably.

“This is my bed, Mal. What’s up?”

“We’re sick of you being so damned pissy. Get over here.”

He glanced at her and she had her shirt lifted, one breast exposed. He growled a bit at the ‘pissy’ comment, but he wasn’t about to pass up her invitation.

“So, Sam is in on this too?” He asked skeptically as he fluffed a pillow and got situated on Mal’s lap.

“It was his idea. Actually, his idea was to just invite you onto the couch while he was nursing, make a big old Malia sandwich, but I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable with that.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean asked, latching gently, eyes instantly threatening to close as he began to drink.

Malia stroked his hair and face, making it exponentially harder for him to keep his eyes open. “If you’re ok with it, we’ll try it when we get home. It would cut feeding times in half, leave me more time for other things.” By the time she stopped talking and glanced down at him again, he was fast asleep.

 

Tandem feeding turned out to be more beneficial than any of them realized it could be.

The first time, Sam was nursing on the couch and they were listening to acoustic covers on Pandora. Dean walked in and Mal waved him over.

At first he was nervous, unsure of what position was best. But he watched his brother for a moment and copied Sam, getting comfortable and latching easily.

He wasn’t sure who reached out first, but the next thing he knew he and Sam were touching hands. He looked into his little brother’s eyes, soft and at peace, and it added to his own sense of contentment immeasurably. They were the world to each other. The one constant. Family. And where words so often failed them, they could share this. And then they gazed up at Malia, and she down at them. And for a few precious moments the horrors and monsters of the world could not touch them.

 

They fell easily into the new routine. Sam didn’t mind sharing in the least, especially since it meant Dean was in a much better mood. Malia didn’t mind nursing them both at once, it did give her twice the free time. And Dean was happy again. They all were.

Malia contentedly resigned herself to things being like this for the rest of her life. And then Castiel came by one morning when they were eating breakfast.

“Hello, Dean. Sam. Malia.” He said in his low gravelly voice.

“Hey, Cas. Want some eggs or bacon?” Malia asked him.

“No thank you, I have not come for breakfast foods. I have found a cure for your condition.”

The room went still and silent for a tense moment. The brothers looked at each other. Malia slid into a chair.

“Okay... Great...” She took a breath. “Great! What’s the cure, Cas?”

“I recently spoke with a witch at some length.” He held up a hand to forestall their objections. “She does not hurt people. She is a healer. I told her of your condition, what was done to you. She gave me this.” He brought a tiny packet from his inner coat pocket and handed it to her. “Her instructions are to brew it with a strong tea and drink it at midnight. I believe she meant to start drinking it at midnight, though I failed to ask for clarification. It should work instantly.”

Malia took the packet gingerly, as if it would explode. “Thank you, Cas.”

 

Three days the packet sat on the kitchen counter. Three nights, too. Malia spent most of her time staring at it, thinking. The brothers, to their credit, kept their mouths shut. They knew this was her decision. It was her body. Her life.

But they had come to be deeply invested in the outcome of her choice.

Which is why, on the morning of the fourth day, they were dismayed to hear her announce she would go through with it that night. Sam tried hard to mask his disappointment. Dean just left the room.

Midnight neared and she brewed her tea, adding the packet as instructed. She waited for the clock on her phone to read 12:00, and when it did she chugged the contents of her mug, uncaring that it was steaming hot.

Instantly she felt lighter, freer... heartbreakingly emptier. It was a good thing her package had arrived that morning.

 

Breakfast the next day was somber. Dean was engaged in a to-the-death staring contest with his cup of coffee. Sam stirred his oatmeal without taking a bite.

And then Malia bounced into the kitchen, kissing them each on the head. “Good morning!”

“Morning.” Sam muttered.

She rolled her eyes at him and poured her own mug of coffee. “Don’t be such a gloomy Gus.” She sat down at the table and looked at each of them in turn. “I need to talk to you guys about something.”

Dean glanced at her. “You didn’t go through with it?” A tiny note of hope in his voice.

“Oh, no, I did. Worked instantly, like Cas said.” She said cheerfully. Dean glared back down at his cup.

Sam sighed mightily, finally giving up on his breakfast and pushing the bowl away. “What did you want to discuss, Li?”

Malia pulled a bottle of pills from her pocket, setting them on the table. Sam picked them up hesitantly and his eyes brightened a bit when he realized what they were.

“Lia... are you sure?” He asked, breathless.

She nodded. “Absolutely. But I need you guys to buy into it too, it will take a lot of work.”

Dean looked between them. “Someone want to tell me what the hell’s going on?”

Sam shook the pills in Dean’s direction. “These are prolactin hormones. Used for inducing lactation.”

It took him a second but Dean’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?”

Malia grinned and shrugged. “Why not? And this way it’s not being forced on me. It’s a choice I’m making. Something I’m doing purposely. For both of you.”

The guys got up from their seats and pulled Malia from hers, enveloping her in a crushing sandwich of a hug.

She laughed happily. Their arrangement was unconventional, to be sure, but it worked for them. Together they had found a family and made a home.

She hoped they would never let go.

**Author's Note:**

> Can't believe I had the guts to finally post this... I really hope someone besides me digs it!
> 
> Possibly will write more if anyone else is interested.


End file.
